


Shaving Foam

by bebtea



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Ficlet, Gen, young tom and janine, zrs4 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28160670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebtea/pseuds/bebtea
Summary: Tom and shaving, over the years.
Kudos: 5





	Shaving Foam

“You’ve hardly got a beard, Tom.”

They’re thirteen and fourteen and he’s staring nervously into the bathroom mirror, eyes flitting from his face to the rather sharp razor blade in his hand.

“Regardless, Father always said a man should be clean-shaven, Janie.”

“You could ask the General -“

Their guardian, very much a ‘children should be seen and not heard’ figure, would likely view such a request as an opportunity for a drawn-out lecture. Tom shakes his head. “You’ve seen the state of his moustache, haven’t you?”

Janine almost giggles at that, but doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making her laugh, and grabs her toothbrush instead. “Look, it’s not like I know how to do it either. Just be careful and don’t press too hard. It’s not rocket science.”

“Up or down? How much shaving foam do I need?”

“Do I look like a barber to you?” His older sister mumbles through a mouth full of toothpaste. There are other bathrooms in the General’s sprawling Georgian house, but only this one is actually warm first thing in the morning. “Budge over there a minute.”

Tom obliges reluctantly, and decides to be liberal with the foam. Here goes nothing.

“Ow! Bastard thing!”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Didn’t I just tell you not to press too hard? Here, I’ll get a bit of tissue on it.”

“It’s nothing, shove off, don’t mother me, Jane!” He snatches the tissue before she can dab the cut again. A bead of blood blossoms red on white.

“Look, do you want help or not? I’m just trying to get ready without freezing to death, don’t be short with me.”

“I’m managing. Just have to be gentler. I have it - ow!”

“You know, perhaps if you talked less while doing it…”

“Perhaps if your big head wasn’t filling up half of the mirror!”

The look in her eyes is withering. “Oh honestly, you’re such a child.”

“Oh, get out! Patronising busybody!”

“When you’ve given me a chance to wash my face I’ll get out.”

“You could give me five minutes-“

“And let you use all of the hot water? You can’t get past me that easily, Thomas. I see right through your ruse.”

He curses her under his breath, and decides to switch to the other cheek.

***

They’re cutting into - under - his skin, reopening the old wounds that had just about healed, peeling back flesh inch by inch, taking their time. They don’t even bother to ask questions anymore. He’s long been unable to answer them.

***

He’s been looking into the mirror for a long time.

It’s hard to recognise himself beneath all of it. The filth’s gone, at least - after a few weeks at Abel he’d decided they probably weren’t going to drown him in the showers. He’d pared down his nails. Got reacquainted with the joys of tooth brushing.

So here they are. The last hurdle. His beard. The razor.

His hands aren’t still enough to manage it anymore, but Janine’s there beside him, calm, comforting.

“Are you sure about this?”

He nods, screwing his eyes shut as he feels the cold sharpness on his skin, clenching his fists tight to the arms of the chair he’s cuffed to. A tear in the corner of his eye.

“I can stop at any time, and we can try again another day.”

“And leave it half-finished?” His voice is remarkably lucid. “Wouldn’t be very professional.”

“Well, I never did make it as a barber.”

He breathes, in, out, in, with the scraping of shaving foam.


End file.
